Melike Şahin: “In my concerts it is not important how you think or who you vote for”

Melike Şahin (Photo: Emre Uenal)

While “Merhem” was an album about healing, on the follow-up album “AKKOR”, Melike Şahin reflects on childhood traumas and difficult relationships, and also the pressures of her newfound fame. A constant: her songs remain hymns for the fight of especially women in Turkey.

Kaput – Magazin für Insolvenz & Pop: I like that you’re smoking during the interview.

Melike Şahin: Sorry if it’s rude.

No, no, I totally appreciate it a lot. It’s very Istanbul, to me.
You know, I recently had the chance to visit the city a few times as my girlfriend had a residency there and I have to say I’ve fallen in love with the city and its people.
In fact, I got quite emotional watching the video to your song “Canın Beni Çekti” (“You longed for me”) as it’s set in Istanbul and captures a lot of the city’s beauty.
It turns out we have a mutual friend, Elif Dikeç, who plays in your live band and who studied with me at the Folkwang University of the Arts. I was lucky to attend her wedding in September on the Prince’s Island of Burgazada.
All that said: how important a role does Istanbul play in your life as an artist?

It is very important because I was born and raised here. And firstly, it shaped my personality – and my art comes from my personality. Sometimes I can feel the connections between the lyrics I’ve written and the city I live in.
The city is a bit chaotic sometimes. It is full of offers, full of beautiful scenes, beautiful neighborhoods. We love it. But sometimes, especially nowadays, since people are a bit, not nervous, but tensed because of the economic and political situation, I guess. I mean, it’s so crowded and sometimes it tires you a bit. It’s like a love/hate relationship with Istanbul. Because you love it, you can’t escape it. But there are some parts that eat you.
Maybe that’s why I decided to form myself a new life with my family, like a two-legged life. My one leg is here in Istanbul, the other one is in Izmir, which is more cozy in contrast to Istanbul.
I love it here. It affects my personality, my attitude towards life. Istanbul is like one of my main inspirations. That’s why I wanted to shoot a video clip showing the most important neighborhoods for me by walking through them – as you may remember Galata Köprüsü, Balat and Karaköy. Each and every time I watch my video clip, it makes me smile.

I just remember, I also produced a video clip to a diss track, a student of mine produced “against” me (it as a university work, ordered by me) in Istanbul. On a ferry to Karaköy.

Oh, cool.

But to come back to you and Istanbul. Do you feel you are connected to a certain scene of other musicians in the city or in Turkey?

Since my father is Alevi, he was always listening to Turkish folk music, Türküs – and so I listened to Türküs also all the time when I was a child. Especially one name that comes into my mind: Sabahat Akkiraz. Her voice is still very special to me, it’s filled with some kind of a sadness, melancholia. Each time I listen to her songs, something emotional happens to me. I can’t escape it. Her music takes me to my childhood. Her voice is like a lullaby. I think it also affected my way of singing deeply.

When it comes to current music, I try to follow the current generation of artists in Turkey. But to be honest, it’s not the most exciting time right now.
I am much more into female musicians because I know it’s much harder for us to build a career in this industry. I like Tuğçe Şenol, Nilipek, Dilhan Şeşen. They all have an authentic way of singing and songwriting. They are able to express themselves in such a unique way.

I’m going to check out all those recommendations. But the question was meant a bit differently, do you feel like you are part of a specific scene? Do you feel that you have an artistic community?

I see. In my creative process, I have mostly Elif Dikeç, Emre Malik , and my drummer Zafer Tunç Resuloğlu. At the beginning of my music creation process, I am really eager to hear their ideas.
But if you are asking if there are a couple of musicians in a studio I am sharing ideas with, I don’t have those.
Since maybe I’m a conservative person, I like to keep things as they are. And since Elif, Emre and Zafer are my original musical partners, I tend to discuss my music with them.
But for the new album “AKKOR” I added a co-producer to the team: Martin Terefe. And as the visa applications for London of Elif and some other band members were cancelled last minute, a really bad situation – I had to work with some new musicians.
This was very hard for my band – and for me too. But I tried to focus on the advantageous part of it. The musicians I had the chance to work with are brilliant.

(Melike Şahin recorded “AKKOR” in London with Dave Okumu, Raven Bush, Sterling Campell, Glen Scott and Nikolaj Torp Larsen)

Your album is entitled „AKKOR”, written in capitals.
Directly translated, it means ‘glowable’ – which I interpret to mean that you want to emphasise that there is still the ability to get emotionally heated (in a positive sense), both for the world in general and for us as individuals. Am I over interpreting here or is this the also social/political statement you want to make here? That we have to keep our ability to show our feelings without being afraid?

It’s a nice interpretation that opens a new meaning to me, like a connection, I just discover this from your question.
Akkor is basically the light of a fire just before it goes out, the light gets smaller and smaller. And then there are ashes, white ashes that still provide a bit of light and heat. The word basically means that candescent state. Ak means in Turkish white, white ashes.
I named my album „AKKOR” because I burned during the writing and recording process, I burned a lot. And at the end, I am the white ashes – I am still giving light and heat to the outside world.
I like the word a lot because its meaning is much wider than just the ashes, if you ask me.
When I look at the state of Turkey now – I just discovered this meaning thanks to you – it feels dark. Yes, we are burning. And sometimes we feel hopeless. But we still have some little pieces of hope in us.
I hope I was able to explain you why I named my album „AKKOR”.

The real story behind the title is so much more poetic than my interpretation.

But you rang another bell in my mind.

Coming from your answer before, what does this mean for the next album? What happens after the candle goes out?

I named my second album right after releasing my first album. Today we have three days left until the release day of „AKKOR”. So I talk to God: “God, please give me the inspiration to the title of my third album.” Because I need a name first, before I am able to fill the inside, the roof comes with a name. The house can only be built once it is named, like bricks, floors, rooms…. So I am still waiting for the inspiration.

Well, you do not have to have the title on the release date, there’s hopefully a little space until you need to start working on the next album.

As you just mentioned the mood of Istanbul, I have to say that during my visits I was surprised how open and optimistic the vibe in the city is, even though the economic pressure (so many years of heavy inflation) and the political system are not easy for people to handle. I didn’t expect that. In regards of ‘ak’ it’s still glowing a lot.

The situation was way better like 10 years ago. But we will find a way to cope with these depressing moods.

Elif gave my girlfriend and me a little city tour during our stay – and told as all the stories that happened during the protests. Like which places helped protesters and which did not. And she told us where we can eat and drink – and which restaurants and bars are now forbidden territory as they were not helpful at all.
As a singer-songwriter, do you feel that you have fans from all parts of the Turkish society? Or do you feel more likely that you’re just representing a specific part of the population?

No, no. When I look at them, I am surprised how diverse they are when it comes to age for example, like young and old people, even some children. Also, there are some girls with tattoos, some covered girls. My audience is like a mosaic. I don’t represent one specific group of people. I think they all find something interesting for them in my music and come together in my shows to share the music. In my concerts it is not important how you think and who you vote for or stuff like this.
These days, it is really hard to get together in the streets of Istanbul, but in my concerts, with the music, there exists a channel between us, we can enjoy togetherness through art.

That’s beautiful.

With your lyrics you talk openly about feelings. Something not let’s say day-to-day practice in Turkey. You’ve become like a role model for the women and LGBTQ+ communities.

I never in my life wrote something to advocate a suppressed group’s things. I mostly write for myself. But since I am a woman and I am talking about the issues, the problems I am witnessing, people find them powerful. It feels like I found the words that they have been searching for. That’s why they love and embrace the songs, I guess.

I am writing for myself, discussing my emotions – and as I am not different from other women living in Turkey, they can connect. We celebrate our feminist solidarity.

I am so curious how people will react to my second album, especially to the song “İfşa”. On the first album they embraced particular the song “BEDELİNİ ÖDEDİM”, a song produced by Elif. They loved it because it says, “I deserve each and every inch of this smile.” This sentence was like a big phenomenon among feminist groups.

Let’s step back: why do you make music?

I often ask myself the same question – but I don’t reach the answer.
I’m asking especially, why do I sing? Where does it come from? It’s quite interesting. It feels like it’s my destiny. It’s written here (points to her heart). God sent me to this world to write some songs and sing them, it’s inside me and I can’t imagine a life without it. It’s my way of healing myself. It’s my way of finding a comfy place in this cruel world.

Do you remember when you first felt the wish to perform music in front of others?

I was a child and I was trying to sing in front of some family members. I remember writing a lullaby to my sister, she is seven years younger than me – I remember singing new words to her at night. And I remember myself in school times, making up some songs. Not yet structured ones, but I was trying.
I feel like writing songs is in my bones, in my veins. It’s that old.

When was it that it became clear to you that you wanted to try to become a professional musician?

The tricky part is the business. I remember that I was taking a cool lesson called jazz appreciation during my last year of college – I studied sociology – you know, we were learning about the jazz heroes, listening to their music and trying to guess who is playing what kind of stuff. During a class break my friend Duygu asked me, what are you going to do when you graduate? My answer: “There are two options. A: I’ll be performing on stages. B: I work behind the scenes in the music industry, organising things.” And then she told me that her boyfriend had a music booking / management company named Gülbaba Music and was looking for an assistant. So I started to work with Ahmetcan and Serhan – Ahmetcan is now my manager.

So you are his boss now!

Yeah, exactly. I was always into the music business. Sometimes I tell my musician friends, that I wish I could be their manager because I would rock their careers to the sky.
Being interested in the structures of music is important. Only having the intuition to sing is not enough. You must be really determined, really hard working and focused when it comes to build a career up.

Why do you have a manager at all?

I also take management credits. Ahmetcan is my manager – but I am a manager too. We are like partners because I’m not like an artist who only produces music and then sits back. I am a control freak and I am there each and every day to design that career.

Well, good management is always an ongoing dialogue. Managing is a weird word for it. It’s more about finding the right person to talk all things through. But let’s come back to the job aspect. How did your parents react when it became clear that music wasn’t just your hobby, it would be your career?

Both my parents work for the state, in administration. So they have an eight to five job in an ugly building (if you ask me) – with a regular salary. They don’t like unknown things. And being a musician is a complete unknown. My mother always knew that I love music, but she wished to God that I find a job with a guarantee. But I said no to her. But nowadays, since I became a big name in the Turkish music scene, she is happy.
Well, I could understand their concerns, because trying to be a musician here in Turkey as a woman, it was hard. Thank God the hardest part is over. I am now in the seventh year of my solo career – by the way, I am planning to celebrate the 10th year with my third album.
From now on, it’s much easier … well, and sometimes more difficult to handle.

In the sense that it is harder to find the tonality, the lyrics for your new life situation?

The most tiring part is to be known, the fame. If you ask me, I don’t enjoy it and I find it a bit difficult because it changed my life. Since I’m a control freak, I need things to happen in the way they used to… I am learning to adapt to the fame. Being in the public eye, sometimes it tires me.
The easy part is to express myself. Because I am there, I made it. I mean, there are dozens of songs out there that are telling my story. So now I don’t have to tell my story again and again, especially in Turkey. That’s why I wanted to open up my territory a bit more to the European audience. It is now about opening a new page in my career: introduce the Turkish diva to the world.

Just for my understanding, in Turkey are you so well known that people recognise you in the streets?

Yes, some do, even tho my stage persona is different from my evey day life look in pullover and yeas, on stage I am really chic, glamorous, I act bold.
So I’m a bit unrecognisable. But some people come and ask me politely for pictures together – but I say “no” to pictures.

Talking about exploring new territories with your music. You already toured with the band in the USA. How was that? (the interview was conducted before the US election)

The US is really hard in contrast to Europe, because touring there is so expensive. But you have to tour to bring your music and identity to those people. My tour there was mostly to the Turkish community, but there were some Americans at the concerts too. So far in Europe it is the same.
I write and sing in Turkish – no one understands what I’m talking about. But I am quite sure that after seeing me on stage performing, I can convince them that I’m the next big thing from Turkey, make them curious for some Anatolian vibes.

Well, with Google Translate it is pretty easy these days to understand at least the overall message of the lyrics.

Do you have the feeling that these international experiences will have a major influence on your future songs? I mean, so far your songs, the lyrics reflect what’s going on in your life.

I haven’t begun to write songs for the third one yet, but I can feel it, the third album. I am sure, “AKKOR” will open myself up to a broader audience. Until my third album is ready, my audience will get bigger and bigger. I don’t know why I feel it, but I feel it.

When I met Elif at Urban Café in Istanbul, she was talking about your first concert after the pandemic. How you had worked for so long in the studio in isolation, on new songs – and then finally the day came to play them in front of people. She said the crowd was huge. It must have been a very touching moment.

The pandemic was really depressing. I mean, we played at Zorlu , one of the biggest and most prestigious venues of Turkey my first show for my debut album – and it is all quiet. No clapping. Because there was no audience allowed. That experience was really hardcore. There was no one except the camera guys and stuff – I remember telling myself: “The people are watching in their homes! Just try to connect with them!” And so I was trying to tell jokes to the camera, you know, making my little glimpses to the camera because I remember that my audience is there, in their own rooms.
Sometimes I remember that concert and I’m like, thank God this is over. Now I have the people with me. They are applauding. They are smiling. They are shouting. They are with me.
It was a bad experience. But looking back, I appreciate how hardworking and dedicated and motivated I was to play that show in that dark era of humanity, let’s say. We played in a circle form for the first time in our lives. It was full of first this and first that. And we did it. I am really proud. But as an experience, it was a bit tough.

I’m sure it meant a lot to the people out there.
But let’s come back to the first concert after the pandemic. What are your memories of that one?

We played this show in Istanbul in front of maybe 50 or 100 people at a venue named Babylon. Concerts were at that time still under restriction. So every other seat had to remain empty.
I found it a bit hard to behave like everything was normal, because you spend two years in your house trying to imagine beautiful things, trying to keep your hope going… It was nice to meet people, but I think it was a bit weird for them too.

Let’s come back to the recordings for the new album in London. We already talked about the reason why you had to record with other musicians. How did that work? Did you send recordings back to your band in Istanbul, to hear their thoughts? As they have worked until that stage with you on the songs, it must have felt heavy to them not to be able to record them with you.

Yes, we had like eight, nine songs finished, demo-wise finished when I went to London. I played them to Martin Terefe – and he came up with that brilliant idea to record the album live. Before that we had imagined to work with a mixed band – some of the members of my band and some musicians he was supposed to bring in. But now apart from my percussionist Ismail, no one from my band was there because of visa problems. The drummer, the keyboardist, the guitar players, they were all unknown people to us. I mean, Sterling Campbell, the drummer, he played with David Bowie. And Glen Scott, the organ player, his work has won Grammys. So suddenly I was in the room with these big names. On top I was for the first time in my life recording something live, because usually in Turkey everything gets done with overdubbing. It was a really, really interesting process.
I wished I had my own band members with me – but as this wasn’t the case, I had to do what was possible. Thank God, Elif had made some recordings in New York on a Wurlitzer. That way we were able to include a cute memory in the album. But now I am reunited with my band and we take the album to the stage.

How do you feel about “AKKOR” comparison to “Merham”?

I feel that the lyrics on “AKKOR” are much more confident, much more brave. I am encountering some emotions in those songs which I don’t have any idea how I ended up there, like anger, because in everyday life I’m a calm person.
All of the lyrics are so brave. And I am so proud of myself, being able to express myself that purely, like 100% pure. I feel proud when I imagine the people will listen to “AKKOR” from now on – I will be sitting in my armchair, comfy, peaceful. Everything happened in a way that at the end the final product is shining beautifully.

“Merhem” was also a beautiful album.

It’s a cool album but since it’s home produced, it feels a bit small. Since we recorded “AKKOR” live, the energy – especially from the drums – is huge.

How long did it take you to record the album?

We did two sessions. In the first week we recorded the first five songs. In the second week we recorded the next five. Drums, keys, guitars and bass guitars were recorded first – and then we put the spices on, let’s say, we made a recording session here in Istanbul with strings. I recorded my vocals mostly in Istanbul – because that is my city, and I wanted to be surrounded by the chaos of my city. Two, three of the songs were done in New York. “Canın Beni Çekti”, the latest single, was recorded in New York for instance.

What is your biggest artistic dream you carry in your heart?

Maybe it’s not that big, but I want to introduce my music to the people in Europe and on the other continents. This is my biggest dream for now.

And to come back to the beginning of our conversation: which is your favourite ferry in Istanbul and why?

Maybe you don’t know it, there is a Bosporus line that is zigzagging the river and
visits the little sea neighbourhoods like Çengelköy , Bebek, Arnavutköy . This is my favourite.

I did not use this one, my girlfriend did. But we took one to visit a museum, right before the last bridge before the Black Sea…

Sakıp Sabancı Museum! I love that part of Istanbul towards Black Sea. It is green there and the sea is beautiful. In Istanbul I live in the Bosphorus neighbourhood of Beylerbeyi. It’s more calm there.

Thanks you so much for taking the time for our long conversation, it’s highly appreciated. Hope to see you soon in Germany, at one of your shows.

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